\u201cFor God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Martin Luther called John 3:16 \u201cthe Gospel in a nutshell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Without a doubt, this is the most famous verse in the New Testament. And yet, as most preachers know all too well, the more popular a Biblical text is, the harder it is to preach! Such is the case here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The popularity of John 3:16 has, in a sense, robbed it of its power. Far from the \u201cheart of the Gospel,\u201d it now seems like nothing more than Christianity\u2019s catchphrase\u2014the logo of the Christian brand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n John 3:16 pops up on tee shirts, on bumper stickers, on billboards, on Facebook, and (most annoying of all) on those little pamphlets that get wedged into the screen door on Saturday mornings! It\u2019s the equivalent of the community choir singing Handel\u2019s \u201cMessiah\u201d at Christmas: much-appreciated, well-loved, but just a bit taxing to hear recited over and over and over again in exactly the same way time after time after time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But there\u2019s another, more dangerous side to John 3:16 that cannot be overlooked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Regardless of what we make of this text\u2019s familiarity, the truth of the matter is that John 3:16 has been used time and time again in Christian history to hurt, divide, and demean people. For some, the requirement that we \u201cbe born again\u201d is code for \u201cyou have to look, sound, and act like us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Gospel becomes a prooftext by which we determine if other people\u2019s salvation is as certain as ours is. From this vantage point, the text loses its transformative power altogether and becomes a weapon to re-enforce a particular worldview.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As is the case with the whole of Scripture, when we read John 3:16 apart from its larger context, we run the risk of missing the point. John 3:16 isn\u2019t a theological maxim in and of itself; rather, it is part of a much richer conversation between Jesus and a man named Nicodemus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nicodemus, says John\u2019s Gospel, was a leader among the Jews. In public, Nicodemus\u2019s loyalties were clearly devoted to the Jewish establishment. But in private, Nicodemus had his doubts. And so, he visits Jesus under the cover of nightfall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRabbi,\u201d Nicodemus says, \u201cwe know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n To put it another way, Nicodemus saw that Jesus was clearly mediating the presence of God, and Nicodemus wanted that kind of experience, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then, as Jesus so often does, he says something that utterly astounds everyone: \u201cVery truly, I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n In other words, glimpsing the Kingdom of God isn\u2019t a matter of praying a certain way or believing a certain way or following a certain set of liturgical customs; it\u2019s about a complete rebirth of our entire existence!<\/p>\n\n\n\n On hearing this, Nicodemus asks an honest albeit na\u00efve question that sounds funny to our 21st<\/sup> century ears: \u201cHow can an old man like me go back into my mother\u2019s womb and be born again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nicodemus makes what is perhaps the most common mistake when it comes to reading and interpreting Scripture: confusing something meant as metaphor with something meant to be literally true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Like all of us, Nicodemus had already been born once into both a physical and a spiritual context: He was born into a Pharisaic Jewish home, with all the customs and traditions of the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But this second birth that Jesus is talking about comes not from below\u2014with all the physical and visceral mechanisms of childbirth\u2014but from above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So how do we do that?<\/p>\n\n\n\n More than saying the right prayers or professing the right statement of faith, being born from above is about a way of life. It\u2019s about living so that those around you will see you and know about Jesus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For Nicodemus, being born from above happened slowly. The Gospel of John tells us that he came to Jesus under the cover of nightfall. He wasn\u2019t quite sure he believed just yet. He didn\u2019t want anyone to recognize him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then, after he leaves Jesus, he returns to his position among the Jewish establishment. His conversion doesn\u2019t happen with a bolt of lightning or sudden blindness; it doesn\u2019t draw the same kind of attention that the Apostle Paul\u2019s conversion does; and there\u2019s no incredible dream that converts or upends Nicodemus\u2019s life like the dreams of Saint Peter or Saint John the Divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But deep down, and ever so slightly, something begins to turn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nicodemus\u2019s rebirth happens over the course of a long journey, which began under the cover of darkness when he took a chance on Jesus. He was an uncertain, fly-by-night, wanna-be disciple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the truth is, with the exception of one brief mention in John chapter 7, we never hear from Nicodemus again\u2014that is, until the end of John\u2019s Gospel. And it is here that Nicodemus\u2019s birth from above is laid bare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As Jesus hangs crucified, after all of the other disciples had fled for fear of persecution, there stands Nicodemus at the foot of the cross, armed with myrrh and aloes and the other provisions for Jewish burial, ready to bear the broken and lifeless body of the crucified Lord to its grave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jesus said, \u201cFor God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We can never fully know what Nicodemus was thinking as he departed Jesus\u2019 company after hearing these words. But we can be sure that something within him began to turn. And then, little by little, his heart was broken open and he was born anew, finding his way through darkness and doubt, to the cross.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In his poem, \u201cFrom the Place Where We Are Right,\u201d the great German-born Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai put it this way:<\/p>\n\n\n\n From the place where we are right The place where we are right But doubts and loves In the midst of this Lenten journey, may we allow our doubts and questions to dig into our certainty. May we be broken open by a love that evades even our wildest imagining until, at last, we come to the foot of the cross.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Amen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This sermon was written by the Rev. Marshall A. Jolly<\/strong>.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nflowers will never grow
\nin the Spring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\nis hard and trampled
\nlike a yard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\ndig up the world
\nlike a mole, a plough.
\nAnd a whisper will be heard in the place
\nwhere the ruined
\nhouse once stood.[1]<\/sup><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n